


Playthings (SEASON TWO, EPISODE ELEVEN)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [34]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, Drunk Sam, Episode: s02e11 Playthings, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:45:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam n' Dean rewind a Connecticut inn run by a single mutha where mysterious dirtnaps is takin place. They find evidence of Hoodoo, n' try ta git into whoz ass is causin tha chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

EXT. PIERPONT INN - NIGHT

A slow wind blows, creakin up in a ancient sign dat readz "Pierpont Inn, Est. 1930". Pan down ta a funky-ass dope mansion/hotel n' tha big-ass van pullin up in front of dat shit.  


  
INT. PIERPONT INN - NIGHT

A large, thugged-out playa bigs up a lil' biatch (SUSAN) down tha dim hallway inside n' up a set of stairs. 

 **SUSAN  
** Most of tha shiznit is up here.

 **MAN  
** I still can't believe you closin dis house. Yo ass know mah muthafathas gots engaged here, biatch? My fuckin grandparents, like a muthafucka. 

 **SUSAN**  
Yeah, a shitload of playas done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!   
(reachin tha top of tha stairs)  
Da boxes is all up in tha end of tha hall. Need any help?

 **MAN  
** Oh, no ma'am, I've gots dat shit.

Two lil hoes- TYLER n' MAGGIE- up in old-fashioned schoolgirl tracksuits is chillin up in tha railin dat overlooks tha entryway. 

 **TYLER  
** Dat punk gonna take our toys?

 **SUSAN  
** Only tha ones you don't fuck wit no mo'. It aint nuthin but not like you aint gots enough already. 

 **MAGGIE**  
(quietly)  
Son of a funky-ass biiiatch.

 **TYLER  
** Son of a funky-ass biiiatch. 

 **SUSAN**  
(to TYLER)  
Watch yo' grill!

 **TYLER  
** Maggie holla'd it first playa!

 **SUSAN**  
(long-suffering)  
Watch yo' grill too, Maggie.   


  
INT. PLAYROOM - NIGHT

TYLER goes tha fuck into a big-ass room filled wit (rather creepy-ass) dolls n' a big-ass dollhouse - a exact replica of tha hotel. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch begins placin dolls tha fuck into they beds.

 **TYLER  
** Dope night, Tabitha.

She looks over, confused, when a thugged-out doll aint where dat freaky freaky biatch had just placed dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch leans over n' sees it lyin on tha floor of tha dollhouse, body facedown but head twisted up. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch picks it up slowly. Below, her mutha screams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. 

 **SUSAN**  
(on tha phone)  
Oh god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yes, fo'sho, is you there, biatch? Oh, you gotta bust one of mah thugs up in dis biatch, right now! (babbling) I don't give a fuck, he,

On tha floor at her feet is tha MAN, lyin up in a pool of blood n' contorted like tha doll fo' realz. As TYLER comes ta tha railing, SUSAN sees her n' gasps. 

 **SUSAN  
** Tyler, don't look! Don't look!

She continues babblin tha fuck into tha beeper as TYLER looks down calmly; tha manz eyes is staring, his crazy-ass grill still pulsin up in a horrifyin gape.

 


	2. ACT ONE

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

SUBTITLE: PEORIA, ILLINOIS

Blues noize skits on tha radio as we pan over tha motel room walls; they is covered up in maps, hand-written notes, n' a MISSING posta showin AVA'S face. Da whole scene is eerily reminiscent of JOHN'S middle-of-a-hunt wallpaper n' shit. 

 **SAM**  
(on tha phone)  
Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Ellen.

 **DEAN**  
(entering)  
What'd she gotta say?

 **SAM  
** Oh, she gots nothing. Me, I've been checkin every last muthafuckin database I can be thinkin of- federal, state, n' local. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. No onez heard anythang bout Ava, she just . . . tha fuck into thin air, you know?

 **DEAN  
** Huh.

Dude handz over one of tha two cupz of fruity-ass malt liquor his schmoooove ass carryin ta SAM

 **SAM  
** What bout yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, same as before. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sorry, man.

 **SAM  
** Ellen did have one thang. 

 **DEAN  
** Hmm?

 **SAM  
** A hotel up in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents up in tha past three weeks. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, biatch? Whatz dat gotta do wit Ava?

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but a thang. I mean, a lady drowned up in tha bathtub; then all dem minutes ago a muthafucka falls down tha stairs, head turns a cold-ass lil complete one-eighty. Which aint exactly normal, you know, biatch? Look, I don't give a fuck, Dean, it might be not a god damn thang yo, but I holla'd at Ellen we'd be thinkin bout checkin it out. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass did?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yo ass seem surprised.

 **DEAN  
** Well yeah, itz just, you know. not the, uh, patented Sam Winchesta way, is it?

 **SAM**  
(mildly challenging)  
What way is that?

 **DEAN**  
I just figured afta Ava there'd be, uh, you know, mo' angst n' droopy noize n' starin up tha wet-ass windows, n' --   
(SAM gives his ass a look)  
yeah, I be bout ta shut tha fuck up now, nahmeean, biatch? 

 **SAM  
** Look. I be tha one whoz ass holla'd at her ta go back home. Now her fiancéz dead n' some demon has taken her off ta Dogg knows where, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Yo ass know, biatch? But we've been lookin fo' a month now, n' we've gots nothing. So I aint givin up on her yo, but I aint goin ta let other playas take a thugged-out dirtnap either n' shit. We've gots ta save as nuff playas as we can. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy fo' me, n' I be officially uncomfortable now, nahmeean, biatch? Nuff props, biatch.

SAM ducks his head n' laughs.

 **DEAN**  
All right, call Ellen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Tell her we'll take dat shit.   


  
EXT. PIERPONT INN - DAY

It aint nuthin but not rainin yo, but tha roadz is wet n' tha air misty as SAM n' DEAN park tha IMPALA up in front of tha inn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN gets outta tha driverz side.

 **DEAN  
** Dude, dis is dope. I never git ta work thangs like all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Like what?

 **DEAN**  
Oldskool school hustled houses, you know, biatch? Fog, n' secret passageways ... sissy British accents, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Might even run tha fuck into Fred n' Daphne while we inside.   
(closin his wild lil' fuckin eyes briefly)  
Mmm, Daphne. Ludd her n' shit. 

As they go up tha steps, SAM notices a urn on tha side of tha porch.

 **SAM  
** Yo, wait a sec. Dude inspects it mo' closely.

 **SAM  
** I aint so shizzle hustledz tha problem.

 **DEAN  
** What do you mean?

 **SAM**  
Yo ass peep dis pattern here?  
(tappin a gangbangin' five-point symbol engraved up in tha urn)  
Thatz a quincunx, thatz a gangbangin' five-spot.

 **DEAN  
** Five-spot.

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz used fo' hoodoo spellwork, aint it?

 **SAM  
** Right, yeah. Yo ass fill dis thang wit bloodweed n' you've gots a bangin charm ta ward off enemies.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, except I don't peep any bloodweed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Don't you be thinkin dis place be a lil too, uh, whitemeat fo' hoodoo?

 **SAM (shrugs)**  
Maybe.  


  
INT. PIERPONT INN - DAY

As they enter, lookin round all up in tha on tha down-low interior, SUSAN entas briskly.

 **SUSAN  
** May I help yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** Yea muthafucka, yeah, I'd like a room fo' a cold-ass lil couple nights, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. 

As SAM moves in, TYLER darts up in front of his fuckin legs, chased by MAGGIE, whoz ass runs behind his muthafuckin ass.

 **SUSAN**  
Yo hommie!  
(to SAM)  
Sorry bout all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** No problem. 

 **SUSAN  
** Well, um, props, you could be a shitload of our final guests, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. 

 **DEAN  
** Well. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Soundz vaguely ominous.

 **SUSAN**  
Fuck dat shit, I be sorry, I mean we closin all up in tha end of tha month.   
(appraisin them)  
Well, let me guess. Yo ass muthafuckas is here antiquing?

 **DEAN**  
(sharin a "why not?" look wit SAM)  
How'd you know?

 **SUSAN  
** Oh, you just look tha type.

DEAN looks vaguely uncomfortable.

 **SUSAN  
** So, uh, mackdaddy-sized bed?

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Fuck dat shit, uh, no, we're, we . . . two singles. Us playas just brothers. 

 **SUSAN  
** Oh. Oh, I be soopa-doopa sorry bout dat bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** What'd you mean dat our slick asses look tha type?

SUSAN has shiznit articulatin a answer n' shit.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know, bustin lyrics of antiques, you gotz a straight-up, straight-up bangin-ass urn on tha front porch. Where did you git that?

 **SUSAN**  
Oh, I have no idea, itz been there forever n' shit.   
(handin DEAN a key)  
Here you go, Mista Muthafuckin Mahagov.

 **DEAN  
** Thanks.

 **SUSAN**  
(dingin tha bell)  
You'll be stayin up in room 237. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen ta they rooms?

As her big-ass booty say this, DEAN turns ta peep a old, baldin playa up in a funky-ass black blazer shufflin up behind his muthafuckin ass.

 **SHERWIN  
** Let me guess fo' realz. Antiquers?

SHERWIN drags DEAN'S clunkin duffel bag behind him, up tha steps, as tha brothers follow.

 **DEAN  
** I could hit you wit a hand wit dat bag. 

 **SHERWIN  
** I gots dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Okay. 

 **SAM  
** So tha hotelz closin up, huh?

 **SHERWIN  
** Yep. Miss Susan tried ta cook up a go of it yo, but tha guests just don't come like they used to. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Still, itz a thugged-out damn shame. 

 **SAM  
** Oh yeah?

 **SHERWIN  
** It may not look it no mo' yo, but dis place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid they headz on our pillows. My fuckin muthafathas hit dat shiznit here, I practically grew up here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Gonna miss it yo. Herez yo' room. 

Dude slips tha key up in tha lock n' opens tha door, handin tha key ta SAM as his thugged-out lil' punk-ass brushes past. DEAN turns ta shut tha door n' SHERWIN is standin there, hand extended expectantly.

 **SHERWIN  
** Yo ass aint gonna ... skanky up on me, is you, boy?

DEAN shrugs, looks annoyed as he pulls up his wallet.  


  
LATER

SAM is chillin, siftin all up in papers, n' DEAN is pacin yo. Dude chucklez as he approaches what tha fuck appears ta be a antique weddin dress displayed on a wall like a pimp. 

 **DEAN  
** What tha-

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz normal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. (gesturin ta tha dress) Why tha hell would mah playas stay here, biatch? I be amazed they kept up in bidnizz dis long. 

 **SAM  
** All right. Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty three muthafuckin years old, a realtor handlin tha sale of tha hotel; n' sucka number two was Larry Williams, movin some shiznit up ta Goodwill.

 **DEAN  
** Well, there be a a cold-ass lil connection: they both tied up in shuttin tha place down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Maybe some muthafucka here don't wanna leave, n' they rockin hoodoo ta fight back. 

 **DEAN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck do you be thinkin our witch doctor is, dat Susan lady?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, don't seem likely. I mean, her ass is tha one selling. 

 **DEAN  
** So what tha fuck then, Sherwin?

 **SAM  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. 

 **DEAN  
** Of course, da most thugged-out troublin question is why do these playas assume we gay?

 **SAM  
** Well, yo ass is kinda butch. Probably be thinkin you overcompensating. 

 **DEAN**  
(mockin a laugh)  
Right.  


  
INT yo. HALLWAY - DAY

SAM n' DEAN poke round tha hallways, SAM sees another urn n' picks it up. Well shiiiit, it too, has a quincunx inscribed.

 **SAM  
** Hey. Look at dis shit. Mo' hoodoo.

They approach a thugged-out door marked "PRIVATE" n' DEAN knocks. SUSAN opens tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SUSAN  
** Yo! Everythang aiiight wit yo' room?

 **DEAN n' SAM**  
(talkin over each other)  
Yeah. Yeah, yeah, every last muthafuckin thangz pimped out. Yeah.

 **SUSAN  
** Well, I was, I was just up in tha middle of packing. 

 **DEAN**  
Yo hommie!  
(lookin past her)  
Is dem antique dolls, biatch? Because dis one, (lookin at Sam) dis one here, he gots a major doll collection back home. Dontcha, biatch? Huh?

 **SAM**  
(afta blastin DEAN a look)  
Big time.

 **DEAN  
** Big time. Yo ass be thinkin his schmoooove ass could come­- or we could come up in n' take a look?

 **SUSAN  
** I don't give a fuck ...

 **DEAN  
** Please, biatch? I mean, he loves dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Dat punk not gonna rap dis yo, but he's, he always dressin 'em up in these lil tiny tracksuits and, um, you'd make his fuckin lil' day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Yo ass- dat biiiiatch would, huh, biatch? Huh?

 **SAM (lookin sick)  
** It aint nuthin but true. 

 **SUSAN  
** Okay. Come on in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** All right fo' realz. All right playa!

Dude slaps SAM on tha back n' bigs up his ass in; SAM blasts his ass a thugged-out dirtnap glare. 

 **DEAN  
** Wow. This be a shitload of dolls. I mean, they sick, you know. Not supa creepy at all. 

 **SUSAN  
** Yeah, I suppose they is a lil creepy. But they've been up in tha crew forever n' shiznit fo' realz. All dem sentimenstrual value. 

 **SAM  
** What tha fuck iz this, biatch? Da hotel?

 **SUSAN  
** Yeah, thatz right. Exact replica, custom built. 

SAM leans down n' picks up tha fucked up doll from earlier n' shiznit yo. Dude frowns.

 **SAM  
** His head gots twisted around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! What happened ta it?

 **SUSAN  
** Tyler, probably. 

TYLER runs in.

 **TYLER  
** Mommy dawwwwg! Maggiez bein mean.

 **SUSAN  
** Tyler, tell her I holla'd ta be sick, aiiight?

 **SAM  
** Yo Tyla n' shit. I peep you broke yo' doll. Yo ass want me ta fix it?

 **TYLER  
** I didn't break dat shit. I found it like dis shit. 

 **SAM  
** Oh. Well, uh, maybe Maggie done did dat shit. 

 **TYLER  
** Fuck dat shit, neither of our asses done did dat shit. Grandma would git mad if we broke 'em. 

 **SUSAN  
** Tyler, dat biiiiatch wouldn't git mad.

 **DEAN  
** Grandma?

 **TYLER  
** Grandma Rose. These was all her toys. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh. Really. Wherez Grandma Rose now?

 **TYLER  
** Up up in her room.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know, I'd, I'd uh, I'd straight-up ludd ta rap ta Rose bout her incredible doll-

 **SUSAN**  
(suddenly)  
No. I mean, I be afraid thatz impossible. My fuckin motherz been straight-up sick n' she not takin any visitors.   


  
INT yo. HALLWAY - NIGHT

SAM n' DEAN exit tha room, poppin' off up in hushed voices.

 **DEAN  
** Well, what tha fuck do you think, biatch? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?

 **SAM  
** Well, dolls is used up in all kindz of voodoo n' hoodoo, like curses, n' bindin spells, n' ... 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor fo' realz. All right, I be bout ta peep what tha fuck I can go dig up on boomin' Granny. Yo ass go git online, check oldschool obits, freak accidents, dat sort of thang, peep if dat biiiiatch whacked anybody before.

 **SAM  
** Right. 

 **DEAN  
** Don't go surfin porn -- thatz not tha kind of whackin I mean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

SAM rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes n' turns back ta tha room as DEAN leaves.  


  
INT. LOBBY - DAY

SUSAN signs a wordy legal document wit tha word "AGREEMENT" all up in tha top fo' realz. A weak-chinned LAWYER standz nearby.

 **SUSAN  
** I've been meanin ta ask. What sort of renovations is you planning?

 **LAWYER  
** They never holla'd at yo slick ass?

 **SUSAN  
** Told mah crazy ass what?

 **LAWYER  
** Uh, Ms. Thompson, we plan on demolishin tha hotel. 

 **SUSAN**  
Oh. I see. Excuse mah dirty ass.   


  
INT. PLAYROOM - NIGHT

TYLER hums ta her muthafuckin ass over tha followin as she skits a chronic jam wit nuff muthafuckin dolls. 

In a upper room of tha dollhouse, a thugged-out dark-suited figure sits all up in tha edge of a funky-ass bed. Upstairs, up in tha parallel room of tha real hotel, tha lawyer sits all up in tha edge of his bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

Da door behind doll-lawyer creaks open;  
Da door behind real-laywer creaks open.

Tyla hums n' pours tea. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch hears a cold-ass lil creak n' goes over ta tha dollhouse.

Doll-lawyer is hangin by tha neck from tha ceilin fan.  
Upstairs, Real-lawyer is hangin from tha neck from tha ceilin fan, twitching. 

 


	3. ACT TWO

EXT. PIERPONT INN - NIGHT

SAM stares all up in a lace-curtained window as droopy noize plays yo. Dude watches tha coroner cart away tha lawyerz body; DEAN is outside, n' meets SUSAN as dat thugged-out biiiatch comes back towardz tha inn.

 **DEAN  
** What happened?

 **SUSAN  
** Oh, tha maid went up in ta turn down tha sheets n' da thug was just . . . hangin there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **DEAN  
** Thatz wack naaahhmean, biatch? Dude was a guest?

 **SUSAN  
** Dude hit dat shiznit fo' tha company dat looted tha place. 

 **DEAN  
** Hmm.

 **SUSAN  
** I don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SUSAN  
** Had a shitload of shitty luck round here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Look, if you'd like ta hit up I be bout ta hit you wit a gangbangin' full refund. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN**  
No props. I don't scare dat easy as fuck .   


  
INT yo. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

SAM is chillin ridin' solo up in tha dark, framed by tha half-open door wit tha key askew up in tha lock. DEAN entas n' shuts tha door behind him, all bidnizz-mode.

 **DEAN  
** Therez been another one. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some muthafucka just hung his dirty ass up in his bangin room. 

 **SAM**  
(darkly)  
Yeah. I saw.

 **DEAN  
** We've gotta figure dis out, n' fast. What'd you smoke up bout Granny?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass is tha boss.

 **DEAN, lookin round up in surprise  
** What?

 **SAM**  
Yo ass is bossy. And short.   
(laughs sloppily)

 **DEAN  
** Is you faded?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. (laughing) So, biatch? Stupid.

 **DEAN**  
(he looks round n' sees nuff muthafuckin empty bottles)  
Dude, what tha fuck is you thinking, biatch? Us thugs hustlin a cold-ass lil case.

 **SAM**  
(tearful, starin at nothing)  
That muthafucka whoz ass hung his dirty ass. I couldn't save his muthafuckin ass. 

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about, biatch? Yo ass didn't give a fuck, you couldn't have done anything. 

 **SAM**  
(shiftin his wild lil' freakadelic gaze ta DEAN)  
Thatz a excuse, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I should have found a way ta save his muthafuckin ass. I should have saved Ava like a muthafucka. 

Dean approaches SAM.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, you can't save everyone. Even you holla'd dis shit. 

 **SAM**  
(slammin tha table)  
Fuck dat shit, Dean, you don't understand, all right, biatch? Da mo' playas I save, tha mo' I can chizzle biaatch!

 **DEAN  
** Change what?

 **SAM**  
(leanin forward, handz ta chest)  
My fuckin destiny, Dean!

 **DEAN**  
All right. Time fo' bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Come on, Sasquatch.  
(Dude leans over n' hauls SAM up by tha shoulders.)  
Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** I need you ta peep up fo' mah dirty ass. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. I always do. 

 **SAM  
** No! Fuck dat shit, no, no. Yo ass gotta  **watch out**  fo' me, all right, biatch? And if I eva ... turn tha fuck into suttin' dat I aint ...   
(beat)  
you gotta bust a cap up in mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN**  
(dismissive)  
Sam.

 **SAM**  
(shovin DEAN ta grill him)  
Dean! Dad holla'd at you ta do it, you have to. 

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, well, Dadz a ass.  
(SAM frowns up in mad drama)  
Dude never should have holla'd anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay dat kind of crap on yo' kids.

 **SAM  
** No yo. Dude was right ta say dat shiznit son! Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck knows what tha fuck I might become, biatch? Even now, mah playas round mah crazy ass dies!

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, I aint dying, aiiight, biatch? And neither is you, biatch. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam.

Dude pushes SAM onto tha bed yo, but SAM stays seated, reachin up n' clutchin DEAN'S jacket. DEAN'S right hand curls up in tha fabric at SAM'S shoulder n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, please biaaatch! Dean, you tha only one whoz ass can do dat shit. Promise. 

 **DEAN  
** Don't ask dat of mah dirty ass. 

 **SAM  
** Dean,. Biiiatch please.Yo ass gotta promise mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN**  
(afta a funky-ass beat)  
I promise.

 **SAM**  
Thanks.  
(he reaches up n' grabs DEAN'S grill wit both hands)  
Nuff props, biatch. Yo ass is ... 

 **DEAN  
** All right. Come on.

Dude bats SAM'S handz away n' shoves his ass back on tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM falls back, then turns over on his stomach ta plant his wild lil' grill up in tha pillow, huggin it wit both arms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Dean rubs a hand over his wild lil' face.  


  
INT. DOWNSTAIRS - NIGHT

Dean goes down ta tha antique, empty bar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SHERWIN is behind tha bar, n' DEAN sits down.

 **SHERWIN  
** Find any phat antiques?

 **DEAN**  
(remembering)  
Um, no! Fuck dat shit, I gots distracted.

 **SHERWIN  
** Have a thugged-out drink.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, props.   
(SHERWIN pours a thugged-out drink)  
So, skanky muthafucka, huh, biatch? Bustin' his dirty ass?

 **SHERWIN  
** That kind of thang seems ta be goin round lately.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, yeah, I heard bout tha other ones. It aint nuthin but almost like dis hotel is, uh, cursed or something. 

 **SHERWIN  
** Every hotel has its spilled blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! If playas only knew whatz gone on up in a shitload of dem rooms they've checked into. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know a shitload bout tha place, don't yo slick ass?

 **SHERWIN  
** Down ta tha last nail.

 **DEAN  
** I'd ludd ta hear some stories.

 **SHERWIN**  
Boy, you should never say dat ta a oldschool man.  


  
INT. ENTRANCEWAY - NIGHT

SHERWIN leadz DEAN up tha wide staircase, showin his ass oldschool framed photographs on tha walls.

 **SHERWIN  
** This is lil Miss Susan, n' her mutha Rose yo. Happier days.

 **DEAN  
** They're not aiiight now?

 **SHERWIN  
** Well, would you be, leavin tha only home you eva knew?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I never straight-up knew one. 

 **SHERWIN  
** Well, dis is Rosez home. It aint nuthin but been up in tha crew over a cold-ass lil century. Used ta be tha crew estate fo' realz. And now she gets ta live up in some ballin' livin graveyard, n' they tear dis place down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, thatz too bad.  
(they start down tha stairs)  
I hear Rose aint feelin well, either.

 **SHERWIN  
** Fuck dat shit, she aint. 

 **DEAN  
** Whatz wack wit her?

 **SHERWIN  
** It aint nuthin but not mah bidnizz ta say. 

 **DEAN**  
Oh. (nodding)   
(he looks at another photo of two lil toddlers)  
Whoz this?

SHERWIN picks up a yellowin photograph of a hoe chillin on a cold-ass lil chair wit lil' black biatch; tha biatch has a quincunx necklace.

 **SHERWIN  
** Thatz Rose, when dat biiiiatch was a lil girl.

 **DEAN  
** Whoz dat wit her?

 **SHERWIN  
** Thatz her nanny, Marie. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looked afta Rose mo' than her own mutha n' shit. 

DEAN frowns up in concern as SHERWIN replaces tha photo.  


  
INT. BEDROOM - MORNING

SAM is kneelin miserably up in front of tha toilet, his afro hangin up in his wild lil' face. DEAN entas n' grins all up in tha sight. 

 **DEAN**  
How tha fuck you feeling, Sammy, biatch? (loudly)  
(SAM groans again)  
I guess mixin whisky n' Jäger wasn't such a gangbusta idea, was it?  
(hopefully)  
I be bout ta bet you don't remember a thang from last night, do yo slick ass?

 **SAM**  
(groans)  
Ohh, I can still taste tha tequila.   
(DEAN smilez up in relief)

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know, there be a a straight-up phat hangover remedy -- itz a, itz a greasy pork sandwich served up in a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty ashtray.

 **SAM**  
(heaving)  
Oh, I don't give a fuck bout you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** I know you do. Yo, turns up when Grandma Rose was a tyke, dat freaky freaky biatch had a Creole nanny whoz ass wore a hoodoo necklace. Whoo. (at tha smell?)

 **SAM  
** So you be thinkin dat dunkadelic hoe taught Rose hoodoo?

 **DEAN  
** Yes yes y'all, I do. 

 **SAM**  
All right.   
(standin painfully)  
I be thinkin itz time we talked ta Rose, then.

 **DEAN**  
(grimacing)  
Oh. Yo ass can brush yo' teeth first.   


  
INT yo. HALLWAY - DAY

SAM n' DEAN approach tha door marked "PRIVATE" n' knock.

 **SAM**  
Hello, biatch? Susan?  
(DEAN looks round furtively)  
Clear?

 **DEAN  
** Mm-hmm. 

SAM kneels before tha door n' picks tha lock.   


  
INT. PLAYROOM - DAY

SAM n' DEAN enta tha creepy doll room n' git all up in tha door up in tha back; itz open, n' they go all up in ta find a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dimly lit staircase. They creep upstairs n' ta tha end of another hallway, tha fuck into a lil' small-ass room whose door be ajar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. ROSE is seated up in a wheelchair facin tha wet-ass window, her back ta dem wild-ass muthafuckas. They approach cautiously.

 **SAM**  
Mrs. Thompson, biatch? Mrs. Thompson?  
(Bitch is trembling, starin at nothing)  
Rose, biatch? Yea muthafucka, Mrs. Thompson, our asses aint here ta hurt you, itz all gravy-  
(she do not respond, just tremblez harder)  
Rose?  
(then, on tha fuckin' down-lowly)  
Dean.  
(drawin DEAN over ta tha side)  
This biatchz had a stroke.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah yo, but hoodooz hands-on, I mean, you've gots ta mix herbs, n' chant, n' build a altar.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So it can't be Rose. Yo, maybe it aint even hoodoo. 

 **DEAN  
** Or dat thugged-out biiiatch could be faking. 

 **SAM**  
Yeah, what tha fuck is you gonna do, poke her wit a stick?  
(DEAN frowns, nodding)  
Dude biaaatch! Yo ass aint gonna poke her wit a stick!

 **SUSAN**  
(entering)  
What tha hell?! What is you bustin up in here?

 **SAM (overlap)  
** Oh, our laid-back asses just wanted ta rap ta Rose . . .

 **DEAN (overlap)  
** Well, tha door was open . . .

 **SUSAN  
** Look at her, her ass is scared outta her wits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I want you outta mah hotel up in two minutes or I be callin tha cops. 

They leave without hesitation.  


  
EXT. PIERPONT INN - DAY

Da IMPALA rumblez outta tha hotel parkin lot.  


  
INT. BALCONY - DAY

TYLER n' MAGGIE is playin jacks.

 **MAGGIE  
** Yo crazy-ass turn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Eightsies. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! 

 **SUSAN  
** Has you done started packin yet?

 **TYLER  
** No.

 **SUSAN  
** Why not?

 **TYLER  
** I don't wanna move. 

 **SUSAN  
** Yes, I know yo, but our crazy asses have to.

 **TYLER  
** But Maggie say our asses aint allowed ta move. 

 **MAGGIE  
** Yeah.

 **SUSAN  
** Tyler, enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Maggie is imaginary. Yo ass is too oldschool ta have a imaginary playa n' I be done pretending. 

 **MAGGIE**  
(sinister)  
I don't like her muthafuckin ass.


	4. ACT THREE

EXT. INN - DAY

SUSAN strutts outside n' places a funky-ass box up in tha trunk of a lil' small-ass red hoopty parked outside. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SHERWIN pulls up in a red pickup truck. 

 **SHERWIN  
** I can lug dem boxes fo' you, biatch.

 **SUSAN  
** I gots it, Sherwin, props. 

 **SHERWIN  
** Okay then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See you later.

Dude drives off.  


  
INT. PLAYROOM - DAY

TYLER windz up a toy n' watches it go back n' forth. Da miniature swingset beside her starts movin on its own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch stares at dat shit.   


  
EXT. PLAYGROUND - DAY

A creepy wind blows, n' SUSAN stares as tha full-sized swingset also begins movin on its own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch approaches tha playground cautiously; all tha playsets is moving, n' tha hoopty starts behind her n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch lays a hand on tha teeter-totta ta stop dat shit. Everythang starts movin faster, n' suddenly tha hoopty revs its engine n' comes straight at her n' shiznit fo' realz. At tha last moment SAM appears, tacklin her outta tha way. 

 **SAM  
** Is you aiiight?

 **SUSAN  
** I be thinkin so.

 **DEAN  
** Come on, come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Letz git inside, letz go.

They help her tha fuck into tha inn.  


  
INT. INN - DAY

SAM n' DEAN guide SUSAN tha fuck into tha bar n' ta a table.

 **SUSAN  
** Whisky.

 **SAM  
** Sure. I know tha feeling. 

 **SUSAN  
** What tha hell happened up there?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass want tha real deal?

 **SUSAN  
** Of course.

 **DEAN  
** Well, at first we thought dat shiznit was some sort of hoodoo curse yo, but dat up there, biatch? That was definitely a spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM**  
(handin her a glass of whisky)  
Here.

 **SUSAN  
** Yo ass is insane.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, itz been holla'd.

 **SAM  
** Look, I be sorry, Susan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Us dudes don't exactly have time ta ease you tha fuck into dis yo, but we need ta know when yo' mutha had tha stroke.

 **SUSAN  
** What do dat gotta do wit any-

 **SAM  
** Just answer tha question. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SUSAN  
** On some month ago.

 **SAM**  
Right before tha cappinz fuckin started. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
(to DEAN)  
See, biatch? So what tha fuck if Rose was hustlin hoodoo yo, but not ta hurt mah playas. To protect dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **DEAN  
** Bitch was rockin tha five spot urns ta ward off tha spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither.

 **SAM  
** Right, until dat freaky freaky biatch had a stroke n' dat thugged-out biiiatch couldn't no mo'. 

 **SUSAN  
** I don't believe all dis bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** Listen, sister, dat hoopty didn't try ta run you down by itself, aiiight, biatch? I mean, I guess it did, technically yo, but yo, but tha spirit can- forget dat shit.

 **SAM**  
(interrupting)  
Look, believe what tha fuck you want. But tha fact is you n' yo' crew is up in danger, all right, biatch? So you need ta clear dem hoes outta here: yo' hommies, yo' mother, yo' daughters, everyone.

 **SUSAN  
** Um, I only have one daughter.

 **SAM  
** One?

 **DEAN  
** I thought Tyla had a sista named Maggie. 

 **SUSAN  
** Maggiez imaginary.

 **SAM**  
Wherez Tyler?  


  
INT. ROSE'S ROOM - DAY

MAGGIE is standin up in front of a terrified ROSE.

 **MAGGIE  
** Dat hoe goin ta stay here wit mah dirty ass fo' realz. And you can't stop mah dirty ass. Therez not a god damn thang you can do bout dat shit. 

 **TYLER**  
(entering)  
Maggie, don't son! Yo ass aint supposed ta bother grandma.

 **MAGGIE  
** I know. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Letz play.

 **TYLER  
** Can our crazy asses gotz a chronic party?

 **MAGGIE  
** We can have fuckin shitloadz of chronic parties. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! Forever n' eva n' eva n' shit. 


	5. ACT FOUR

INT. PLAYROOM - DAY

SUSAN leadz SAM n' DEAN up ta tha playroom.

 **SUSAN  
** Tyla son!

They go tha fuck into tha room; tha floor is littered wit fucked up dolls. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Susan starts ta panic.

 **SUSAN  
** Oh mah god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Tyla n' shit. (runnin outta tha room) Tyla playa! (comin back) Dat hoe not here biaatch!

 **SAM  
** Susan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Tell our asses what tha fuck you know bout Maggie. 

 **SUSAN  
** Uh, not much. Um, Tylerz been poppin' off bout her since Momma gots sick. 

 **SAM  
** Okay, did you eva know mah playas by dat name?

 **SUSAN  
** Uh, no . . .

 **DEAN  
** Think, think, I mean, some muthafucka dat could have lived here, might have took a dirt nap?

 **SUSAN  
** Oh mah god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! My fuckin momma. My fuckin momma had a sista named Margaret. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch barely was rappin bout her muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Did Margaret happen ta take a thugged-out dirtnap here when dat biiiiatch was a kid?

 **SUSAN  
** Bitch drowned up in tha pool.

 **DEAN**  
Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
INT. POOL - DAY

MAGGIE n' TYLER is hangin on tha ledge above tha pool.

 **TYLER  
** I don't like it up here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I be trippin like a muthafucka.

 **MAGGIE  
** It aint nuthin but all gravy fo' realz. All you gotta do is jump.

 **TYLER  
** I can't swim.

 **MAGGIE  
** I know. But it won't hurt. I promise. And then we can be together -- forever n' shit. And no one will bother us. 

 **TYLER  
** Why don't you just come wit me n' Mommy?

 **MAGGIE**  
Because I can't leave here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. And you can't leave mah dirty ass. Please. I don't wanna be ridin' solo.  


  
EXT. INN - DAY

SUSAN, SAM n' DEAN run all up in tha gardens ta tha pool house. They reach tha door n' pound on dat shit. It aint nuthin but locked tight, n' SAM n' DEAN start poundin all up in tha glass ta break dat shit.

 **SUSAN  
** Tyla son!

Mo' pounding.

 **SUSAN  
** Tyla son!

 **TYLER  
** Mommy hommie!

MAGGIE grabs her wrist n' pulls her forward; she falls tha fuck into tha pool wit a scream. 

 **DEAN  
** Is there another entrance?

 **SUSAN  
** Around back. 

 **DEAN**  
All right, letz go.  
(to SAM)  
Keep working.

As they run round tha building, SAM continues ta pound all up in tha door; he looks back n' sees a big-ass potted plant yo. Dude pulls tha plant out, picks up tha heavy pot, n' starts poundin tha door wit dat shit. 

Inside, TYLER floundaz up in tha water, comin up fo' a second; MAGGIE pushes her head down.

DEAN approaches tha back door n' holdz SUSAN aside.

 **DEAN  
** Stand back.

Dude front-kicks tha door, twice yo, but it hardly budges.

 **DEAN  
** Son of a funky-ass biiiatch!

As MAGGIE holdz TYLER'S head under tha water, a waverin voice calls her from above.

 **ROSE  
** Margaret. Margaret playa!

SAM finally breaks all up in tha glass n' wrigglez all up in tha opening. Without hesitation he leaps over tha railin n' tha fuck into tha pool yo. Dude pushes past tha plastic coverin tha pool ta reach TYLER, liftin her up in his thugged-out arms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch is unconscious. 

DEAN breaks all up in tha back door n' he n' SUSAN rush up in ta hook up SAM as he exits tha pool. Afta a tense moment, TYLER coughs n' wakes up.

 **SUSAN  
** Thank god hommie! Thank god, give props ta god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **TYLER  
** Mommy hommie!

 **SUSAN  
** Yeah, baby, I be here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SAM  
** Tyler, do you peep Maggie anywhere?

 **TYLER**  
Fuck dat shit, she gone. Mommy.  


  
INT. ROSE'S ROOM - DAY

 **MAGGIE**  
You'd straight-up do dat fo' me son, biatch?   
(pause) Yes yes y'all. If you did, I'd let dem go. But I don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass kept me away fo' so long. I thought you didn't ludd me no mo'.   
(beat)  
Okay, lil sister. (she reaches forward n' caresses ROSEz cheek)  


  
INT yo. HALLWAY - DAY

SUSAN holdz TYLER close ta her as they go up towardz ROSE'S room.

 **SUSAN  
** Don't worry, honey, our slick asses leavin up in two minutes, we've just gots ta git Grandma. 

 **DEAN  
** I don't git it, did Maggie just stop?

 **SAM  
** Seems like dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Well, where tha hell did she go?

Upstairs, SUSAN screams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. They go hustlin up ta ROSE'S room ta find her slumped up in her wheelchair, dead as fuckin fried chicken.

 


	6. ACT FIVE

**SUSAN  
** Paramedics holla'd dat shiznit was another stroke. Do you be thinkin ... Margaret could have had suttin' ta do wit it?

 **DEAN  
** Us dudes don't give a gangbangin' fuck.

 **SAM**  
But itz possible, yeah.   
(beat)  
Susan, I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. 

 **SUSAN**  
Yo ass have not a god damn thang ta apologize for. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. You've given me every last muthafuckin thang.   
(to TYLER, as dat thugged-out biiiatch comes out)  
Ready ta go, kiddo?

 **TYLER  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Now Tyler, you shizzle Maggiez not round no mo'?

 **TYLER  
** I be sure. I'd peep her n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** I guess whateverz goin on must be over n' shit. 

SAM holdz tha ride door fo' SUSAN

 **SAM  
** Yo ass two take care of yourselves, all right?

Before gettin up in tha taxi, dat dunkadelic hoe turns n' gives SAM a gangbangin' full-body hug. DEAN smirks.

 **SUSAN  
** Nuff props, biatch. Both of you, biatch.

SAM shuts tha door behind her muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be serious, I be thinkin she was horny bout you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, thatz all she needs.

 **DEAN  
** Well, you saved tha mom, you saved tha girl. Not a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass day. It make me wanna hollar playa! 'Course you know, I could have saved 'em mah dirty ass yo, but I didn't want you ta feel useless. 

 **SAM  
** All right, I appreciate dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Feels phat gettin back up in tha saddle, don't it?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, it do. But it don't chizzle what tha fuck we talked bout last night, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** We talked on some lot of thangs last night.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know what tha fuck I mean.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass was wasted.

 **SAM  
** But you weren't fo' realz. And you promised.

They git tha fuck into tha car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. SAM up in a gangbangin' full-on brood, DEAN flickin his wild lil' fuckin eyes towardz SAM up in worry or anxiety. They pull away from tha inn.

Slow pan all up in tha inn ta tha upstairs bedroom, where MAGGIE n' ROSE (now appearin bout TYLER'S age) is skippin rope n' counting. 

 


End file.
